Respect Is Demanded, Not Earned - War Beginner

[Carcharoth]

The day of brilliant sunshine was drawing to an end; the clear blue skies of afternoon were slowly growing darker into an inky blackness to the East, the sprinkling of stars scattering the abyss like salt grains. The sun was setting in the West, and from Fenris’ glow poured wondrous colours of yellow, crimson and amethyst. The evening colours were indeed incredibly beautiful, yet they held a daunting view of the blood that was to spill on such a calm and serene twilight.
The air was deathly still, stirring now grasses within the valley nor any leaves within the canopy which stretched out for miles around them. It felt so intense that the atmosphere could have been cut with a knife; not even the chorus of crickets, the hooting of the owls or the screaming of foxes could ease the tension which hung now so heavily in the air. Two enormous beasts, brutes that sent tremors through the very earth with each step they took, stalked through the lands with such force and power that the grass itself appeared to bow before them. The varg, which looked more like growth stunted grizzly bears than wolves, were the First and Second ranking members of the feared and brutal Balkar pack. For moons now their reputation had faltered and respect of their power was lacking to the point that even cubs laughed in their face. It was time to set the record straight.

The First, who was only slightly larger than the Second, bore a pelt of ebony black which engulfed the shadows and allowed him to almost disappear with the fading light. Small flecks of silver fur however broke through his flanks and his muzzle, showing the signs of aging. Thick, loose skin hung grotesquely round his belly; swaying from side to side with every heavy footfall he took. Despite the initial impression that he was out of shape, beneath the fur on his shoulders, haunches and thick neck rippling muscles waved rhythmically with his confident movement.
Aloft his massive skull there stood only a single aud, the other nothing more than a tuft of fur from which ran a silver scar. Cutting through his left eye it left behind a pearly white orb that resembled the moon Goddess herself. Though it was blind to all things, often many believed they felt its penetrating gaze unbearable and haunting. The other eye however was all seeing, glimmering under the dying light it remained an emerald jewel.

A scent barrier hit the pair as they continued through the deep valley, causing a sinister grin to creep its way up the First’s muzzle like an ivy vine. Without hesitation or any sign of slowing, Carcharoth merely rose his tail and hackles as a sign of dominance and strength. This invasion was going to be a whole bundle of fun…at least for himself and his counterpart.
Glancing to the right, his only good eye picking up the orangey glow of his companion, the brute growled deeply and quickened the pace from a walk to a trot, the skin around his belly swinging even more violently with the change. “It’s time to do a little tracking, would you not agree?” he instructed more so than queried. With that said he lowered his head and allowed his sensitive nasal to start picking up any trails left by either varg or herla that may have passed recently. And all too suddenly the fresh scent of an adult male struck his senses. Not only an adult male…the Dragga of the pack…

(Right, Carnage and I will post a little, track Kadin in our posts, tear him apart then someone enter...or someone on their own but too afraid to stand up to us can stalk our movements if you so desired? It's up to yourselves!)

[Carnage]

Fenris was fleeing the sky, showcasing the same dramatic exit he performed each night on end. In his wake he left the sky painted a multitude of oranges and reds. Stars had begun to appear from behind the shroud of twilight, their distant, flickering forms standing out against the darkening heavens like shining eyes in the shaded forest. The harmonious display was a glaring contrast to the sins that would be committed on foreign soil; a single, crimson scar across the heavens seemed to foretell of the impending misfortune.

Hailing from lands much darker than the adjacent valley, two devils had strayed from their homeland of twisted tree trunks and nightmares. A change was in order, and since desirable change rarely happened on its own, the two like brutes sought to re-carve their names in history, not only an individualist goal, but a noble intention that would benefit their brethren as well. Their reputation had fallen drastically, descended into unfamiliar and unwanted territory. The entire renown of the all-male pack rested on the broad shoulders of these two able-bodied beasts and the havoc they would wreak.

Trudging alongside the First was a scourge of equal proportion, if not a hair shorter. His build was no less impressive as the muscles rippled and tensed beneath his thick pelt; his chiseled, statuesque frame resembling more a bear than any wolf that walked the earth as though he had betrayed his own species. Draped over the robust structure of The Second was a pelt of charcoal and flame; the orange hue which seemed to glint so brightly in the sunlight faded to brown in the darkness, leaving him only a tad more discernible than the midnight-hued mammoth at his side. The fiery tint consumed the whole of his underbelly, as well as his forelegs up to the elbow and an awkwardly placed patch on his lower back. Burning coals glinted in his skull; agitated flames that danced with looming menace as his keen eyes roved over the foreign soil. Flexing his ebon talons into the pliable earth, his attention turned to Carcharoth, seeking out his good eye and locating the vivid, poisonous pool easily in the darkness.

The winds had changed, the prominent scent of the lingering pack members was drowned out by the stronger scent of an individual. A Dragga, possibly even the Alpha of the pack. His substantial scent spoke of power and dominance. A grin began to spread across the male's features, mimicking the one that The First now wore. "And what better time than now?" he replied, the words almost dripping from his tongue as he lowered his powerful neck to put his nose to the ground. Quickening his gait he kept in time with his accomplice as the midnight tendrils wove their way across the expanse of darkening sky above.

(If my font works on one background, then it doesn't on another. If you're viewing it on the Koran background and it's hard to read, just highlight it. Sorry -_-)

[Tourniquet]

Foreboding, that was what made the air so thick around this time now, he couldn't place a paw on what in the name of Fenris was causing his heart to thump wildly within his ribcage, as though trying to break free and escape into the night. Quietly he scented the air and continued to move about, sniffing at the ground while his personal demon laughed in the back of his mind "Paranoid Fool." came the insult but Tourniquet only mentally told him to shut it, now was not the time and he didn't want to deal with the monster right now, something was wrong, his instincts screamed at him to move and move fast, the feeling of danger began to claw at his heels and hurried he picked up his pace, unsure of what was happening to him or what was causing this.

But as he entered a bush he finally spotted what was causing the heavy sense of danger and warning that penetrated even his soul and chilled him to the marrow of his bones. Trespassers. And not your average run of the mill kind, no these were obviously Balkar, just their sheer size confirmed that in his mind even before the scent of Balkar reached his nose. Realizing the situation Tourinquet quickly but silently dove downwind of them, he most definitely did not need these two finding him, he surely wouldn't survive. But why were they here? What purpose did they have in Koran? "Maybe they're hungry for wolf meat" the demon in his head snickered and again he mentally snapped at the brute to shut up. Now that he had shut up that little annoyance he quickly began to follow the large brutes, making sure to keep down wind and stay low.

He then noticed another scent ahead of the two killer's, this one he knew to be the Alpha of Koran, he had never met the wolf himself and for a moment he began to wonder he would be further ahead in the direction of these two or would he move on and be spared. A chill racing up his spine offered the answer of "No." said so bluntly and without much emotion to his mental mind he couldn't help but shudder, forcing himself to bite down a whimper, he didn't need detection now. So without much more thought he continued to track them, wondering what the outcome of their being here would result in, but you had to wonder.

"You think too much, it hurts my brain" again came the voice of his mind's bane and his golden brown eyes narrowed in obvious annoyance and finally he mentally snapped at the personal demon "Will you just shut up?! I'm about fifteen feet from DEATH and I don't need YOU distracting me! Now Shut UP!!" there came an angry huff from the back of his mind but the demon shut his mouth and grew quiet. Tourn mentally scoffed and shook his head before moving on, putting a bit more distance between himself and the two brutes, hoping today wouldn't be his day to die... but he could smell death.

[Carcharoth]

The scent was pungent, raw, full of power and yet had the hidden trace of misery and failure. The First’s grin contorted into an ever more sinister smile as he began to pad with an exhilarated bounce in the direction of his quarry, brushy banner held high and his single aud and eye on high alert for anything that might cause some form of ‘disturbance’. The initial intention was to set fear back into the hearts of Transylvanian varg, to prove once again that the Balkar were a force to be reckoned with and not toyed with. Blood was of course on the menu, but whether or not death was high on the ’to-do’ list, well Tor would only have to wait and see and her moonlight would cast down upon.
Something began to niggle and itch on the back of the brute’s mind and his aud flicked, pearly eye seeming to swim now in its socket. Carcharoth slowed himself and raised his enormous head up to scan the area around him. Something felt off, as though the air had shifted and a haunting presence was watching carefully over their shoulders. Quirking a brow the brute snorted, his breathe furling out in plumes of mist which gave the impression of smoke being exhaled from a dragon’s nares. The sensation continued to linger, but instead of enquiring into the situation, the hulking mann continued on his trail, head lowering once more as he padded forth after his Second in command.

The scent grew stronger, and eventually tell tale signs in the earth proved that this was indeed the right path towards their latest victim of choice. With it the scent markings of an Alpha who was on patrol duties, this only caused Carcharoth to chuckle deeply in a seriously malicious fashion. “Oh we have stumbled across a beauty tonight my dear Carnage. This shall be a delectable to feast upon indeed,” he growled coldly, his words low and audible to only those within the perimeter, which of course he assumed was only himself and the fiery beast at his side.

Not long passed until the aroma of Dragga was so thick in the atmosphere that Carcharoth’s jaws began to dribble and salivate with the hunger of power and testosterone. He too was an alpha, and the desire to overthrow this brute in lands that were not even his was just incredibly over whelming - the time would soon come when he was finally able to show his true force and supremacy over all those who stood in his path.
Ahead a shifting figure loomed in the shadows, their body relatively large in size and stature that of dominance - yet in comparison to the two bear-like varg that were on his trail the varg could have been re-named a mouse. A rumbling growl suddenly trembled through the First’s deep chest and his emerald hue flashed with a fleeting madness that held no mercy or fear. The Dragga of Koran was automatically on alert and rose to meet the two invaders, his hackles and tail on end as his lips were pulled back in a less than frightening show of protection and aggression.

Slowing himself to a halt, Carcharoth swiftly signalled Carnage to stop. For a few moments he merely eyed the Dragga up and down, his wicked grin broadening and the slaver dangling like a stalactite from his jowls. “Well well well, what have we here? A pitiful little Dragga who stands alone without another soul to assist in defence? What a pathetic pack this is, wouldn’t you agree Carnage?” he growled, his voice deep and booming though trembling evidently with the amount of control he had to usurp in holding back the attack.
Taking a step forward he flicked his tail sharply in front of Carnage to prevent the Second from moving any closer - Carcharoth was going to take first glories in chomping down on this useless piece of meat before them. “I think it’s time you prove your worth Koran. You fall tonight, the rest of your pack will fall with you. And at last, us Balkar will dine on feast finally worthy of our tongues!” he snarled, voice now so thunderous that it echoed across the lands and seemed to cause the leaves in the canopy to tremble.

Hind legs recoiled beneath the monster and with a speed that seemed daunting his size Carcharoth flew forward, his jaws agape and emerald eye masked in the sudden blood lust that had now completely taken over all his senses. The hit was hard and savage, causing the lesser mann to be thrown clean off his paws and land roughly on the solid earth. Without a moment’s hesitation the First was above him and his jaws firmly grasped his throat. Growls, snarls and last words of hatred and revenge were flung out into the night’s stillness, yet it all fell on a deaf ear for Carcharoth feared nothing, not even death. The words of a dying varg merely fed his fury and malice more and more, causing him to crush down on his windpipe with even more force each time…this brute was to be ripped to shreds and his identity lost to even those who knew him best…

((right Carnage, join in. I know I never signalled it, but just say you got all desperate and just lost control. Expect Carch to lash out once or twice at you, but hey, that’s what real wolves do over a carcass…and this one ain’t no different XD ))

[Carnage]

With his head lowered to the ground, following the scent trail of the Koranian Dragga, the newly appointed Second of the Balkar looked more like a rummaging grizzly bear or a stalking hyena. Angular shoulder blades were held higher than his neck; they seemed to pierce and prod the sky above as they alternated their slicing motions to maintain his sporadic pursuit. Across his maw a wide cheshire grin was smeared, adding even more to his hyena-esque appearance. While exposing his tongue to better taste the scent, it was doubtful that the expression was purely for function, for the lumbering beast was well known for taking sheer delight in his victims' torment and agony, thus eliciting the devilish grin that lit his dark features.

His nares burned with the cutting scent of the Dragga. It told many things of the soon-to-be-dethroned Alpha. The Lacan could tell that he held the strength of a Dragga, he had made these lands his own and would no doubt risk it all to die defending them. This only made his grin grow wider, if such a thing could be conceived possible. He liked it when they fought, when they struggled. Their eyes always started off so bright, full of life and defiance, and it brought him the greatest feeling in the world to be able to tower above them and watch that light fade before burning out completely. The feeling was indescribable, to be able to hold such control over the life of another, and snuff it out whenever your heart desired. The Balkar were truly gods among wolven kind, dark lords of the land who sought not to give life, but only to take it.

A new scent drifted along the breeze, though it was so faded and indistinct that the brute shrugged it off without a second thought. Looking behind him he noticed that the hulking First must have picked it up as well, for he had fallen behind, stopped in his trailblazing and had risen his head to take a quick survey of the land. Following suit, Carnage regained his posture, his pointed auds pricked at full attention as his keen eyes burned over the line of trees that surrounded them. Shifting his gaze momentarily to Carcharoth, he seemed to be silently asking for his opinion on the matter, though when the First gave little more than a snort at the affair, Carnage simply mirrored his response and continued on his way, nose to the ground as he went off on his way once again.

His ears swiveled once more, this time to catch the deep, rich chuckle of the First at his side, his ominous laughter offering a dismal contrast to the otherwise silent twilight. "Oh? A feast you say?" He retorted, the last of his statement breaking off into a low chuckle. "Our bellies have been starving for too long, Carcharoth." His tone now was more serious, though his flickering orbs still had that devious sheen to them. He would revel in this Alphas pain, even moreso in the carnal delight of feasting on his flesh and blood. It would certainly be a night to behold, if any such spectators aside from the lingering ravens and crows had the pleasure of witnessing such a blood bath.

Naturally, he let the First resume his lead, falling in line close behind him. Though he was still stunted in rank compared to the half-blind Mann, the blood lust was not any less vigorous as the hunger seared through his veins. Already he was slathering, strings of saliva had begun their descent from his mouth to fall on the ground at his orange paws. "The blood of an Alpha..." he mused out loud, not caring whether or not Carcharoth would choose to acknowledge him, "Must taste like nectar, and flow like the streams of paradise."

Shifting his attention from the ground and surrounding underbrush, a silhouette not far off caught his attention. Their dark form against the darkened sky could be discerned by the streaks of light cast down by the stars and the remainder of the fading heavens. Though not as large as either of the two brutes, if he had faced either of them one on one, he might have stood a chance, for his build was well-muscled for a Dragga of his size. His stance was a dominant one, his features alert and attentive to the presence of the two intruders, though even his readiness to attack and defend would not be enough to save him.

Minding The First's order to fall back, Carnage simply stood where he was, his glowing eyes tracing the form of the pathetic Koran Alpha. "Not even a pack worth defending" he offered in reply to The First, his voice had dropped to a low growl.

With a flick of his whip-like tail, The First shifted into motion, his gears had been kicked into full as his massive frame tore away from the fiery form of The Second. Watching the departure of his superior, Carnage held himself in check for one, two, three moments. Counting silently to himself the number of heartbeats he refrained from participating, he was forced to count faster and faster as his heart rate steadily increased. Adrenaline surging through his veins, he had given Carcharoth more than ample time to fulfill his deep-seeded desires. Unable to hold back any longer, The Second lunged forward, meshing himself with the existing fray, a tumultuous war cry sounding from the depths of his throat as he roared his enthusiasm towards Carcharoth's short speech, the growls of his stomach echoing the motion. Propelled by the strength of his hind legs, he leapt with more ease than grace into the heart of the riot, lashing out and snapping at fur and flesh alike, all was an indiscernible blur to the testosterone-fueled male. Once or twice he could have sworn to have clamped, accidentally, onto The First by mistake, though his main focus during the frenzy was the writhing form of Koran's own worm of an Alpha. Locking his jaws onto the taut, ebon flesh, he violently shook his massive head until his steel jaws ripped and tore at the battered frame, chunks of fur and meat flying through the air and being devoured all the same. Blood coated his face, staining his orange fur crimson as he continued to bury his face in the mass of flesh, snapping tendons and shattering bones with his own blunt force. He had completely resigned himself now, just as The First had; they were no longer creatures of flesh and blood, but god-like warlords, immortalized by their savage butchery and lack of mercy or tolerance. They were puppets, strung up by their own gluttonous thirst until they were no longer recognizable as the others of their kind.

[Tourniquet]

Instantly the peaceful colors of the day became coated with the sickening splatter of blood and gore, fur flying and blood splattering upon all that came to close to the blood bath currently taking place. Golden brown eyes narrowing sharply in silent horror at the scene going on before him, the alpha of his pack being taken down as easily as a human would snap a twig from a nearby tree... a flurry of snarls and angry words screaming into his auditories, driving his mind toward the black void known as numbness and for a time he could do nothing more then watch the insanity before him, the deafening carnage that tore through the forest with such insane rage that everything paused in fear of drawing the attention of the devils who were currently at work in their fiendish mischief, nothing dared interfere.

Suddenly the voice of the beast within screamed at him, snapping him from his nightmare induced daze Hey Stupid! I know you told me to shut up but honestly you need to DO SOMETHING, YOU TWIT!!! jerking sharply in response to the sudden screamed words and flying insults the sikla jerked his body around, bolting away from the scene that would send anyone unconscious from pure terror of the work going on, his scramble kicking up several leaves and knocking up a few mounds of dirt. Hurriedly he rushed through the underbrush all around him, everything nothing more then a blur to his eyes as he ran past everything, away from the terror behind him. Only one thing ringing in his mind, the pack... the Alpha was gone and no one knew but him now... that needed to change, he knew that his rather abrupt exit would have drawn the beasts attention so he needed to move or he would become the new fodder for the crows.

Move it, Stupid, Move it!!! the inner demon screamed angrily in his ear causing him to yip in pain as his eardrum rang painfully. Growling he bolted between two bushes and quickly clambered up a nearby hill, panting heavily to catch his breath before throwing his head back and releasing a loud howl into the forest, a howl signaling danger and intruders.... to call the pack to him... they needed to know and since he was the only one who knew now it was his duty to inform them... despite how difficult the trial of explaining everything would be he needed to alert his family to the tragedy that had befallen them... and report the demons responsible for the murder of their Alpha.

[Carcharoth]

The blood was rich; this varg was indeed no sikla, and some sense of sick satisfaction ran through the mighty First’s mind as he tore and devoured the flesh beneath his bulk. It had finally happened; something big had at last struck that chord in the monotonous life that was being lead through the entire Carpathian range. The Balkar had once more made their mark amongst the pathetic packs that roamed these lands, and they would not likely forget this event for many years to come – at least not if Carcharoth had anything to do with it.
As his thoughts were distracted by the grand events to take place in the future, his attention was sharply brought back to the reality of the situation as a sudden weight was clamped down onto his previously scarred shoulder – a mark that the little runt Genocide had taken great pleasure in placing – and a savage snarl erupted from his bloodied jaws. Carnage, in the lust of the moment, had misjudged his bite and instead took hold of his superior in a tight grasp and was not loosening his grip anytime quick. Roaring out his displeasure of the action, Carcharoth swung his head in the direction of his untamed underdog and smashed his solid jaws against the side of his head – causing the let-go reaction he’d initially went for.
The collision split the two apart and for a moment, if an on-looker had not been paying close attention, the pair looked nothing more than like great grizzlies snarling and roaring over a misplaced salmon. Jaws agape, steam rose into the air from a mixture of his hot, rancid breathe and the still warm blood that soaked his fur, lips and tongue. Simply caught up in the moment, the First was ready to strike back at his Second in command when an abrupt rustle and yelp caught his immediate attention.
Sodden muzzle was swiftly directed to the area in which a lowly runt had been hiding and observing their actions before taking his urgent departure. Lips contorted from a malicious snarl into a more than sinister grin as realisation over what had just happened sunk in. The blood lust, if only just fractionally, resided for a mere moment as his glowing green orb turned back to rest on the fuming form of Carnage, his chest beginning to tremor with an wicked chuckle. “Well well, we better get our blooded muzzles out of here before the cavalry arrive...might want to round up the troops eh?” he growled darkly to the Halloween toned Second.
Looking briefly towards the scattered carcass of the once strong and devoted Dragga of Koran, the First snorted one last distasteful breathe and turned tail on the bloodied mess. There was no reason to take a trophy with him, he had filled his stomach for now with what he’d torn off and there was certainly more to come. A howl rang out into the night sky, sending flocks of roosting birds from their perches in the canopy and allowing the message to ring out across the land and touch every ear of Koran. With one last growl Carcharoth changed his pace from a walk to a mild trot, the loose skin on his underbelly flapping about in all unpleasant directions. “I think our welcome here has expired...”


(I am so sorry this is not my best...it has been a LONG time. But hey, that's me done. Sorry for the god-moding stuff Carnage, no harm no foul, hope you don't mind!)